Crit Thread

[Anonymous No.12716433]

Remember to provide feedback to at least one other writer when posting your own work, or be consigned to the Lake of Fire.

[Anonymous No.12716580]

>>12716433
unironically I remember those chick comic books from when I was a kid. My brother kept them in our room in a desk drawer, I think they came from his bible study. The art always made me feel very unsettled.

[Anonymous No.12716619]

>>12716580
A few of the artists regularly stray into the uncanny valley.

[Anonymous No.12716962]

What is the vision? The vision is fundamentally a self-realising ideal. But not some base pretension - it is the formless ideal that rests at very base of the shapeless edifice, the chiefest and greatest object of our mortal aspirations. It circumscribes space like some ancient serpent which writhes across the mystifying vastness of eternity. Though it begat them it harbours no disdain for the iniquity of men, for in the ponderous eyes of the whore, or the ribald gaze of the blackest deviant, the vision may be dimly apprehended.

[Anonymous No.12717114]

>>12716962
I don't know what you're talking about. Otherwise, good.

[Anonymous No.12717166]

>>12717114
Aye don't worry about the meaning. Its just mystical philosophising, I'm not even sure what I'm on about.

[Anonymous No.12717179]

>>12716433
Ok I've come to save this failure of a thread you can thank me later.

[Anonymous No.12717196]

>>12717179
Good poem, cringe /pol/tard

This is 3300 words so I don't expect anyone to read to the end of it. I'll critique any serious submissions that respond to me.
https://pastebin.com/vvzDbk3j

[Anonymous No.12717376]

>>12716962
The vision is an invader which plunders the Kingdom of Man of its foul and reeking aspirations. It is the musclebound corpse of God almighty, struck fast to the bow of an intrepid vessel which pursues its own reflection across a painted sea. It is the noxious vapour which fills the lungs of eternity and expels itself in frightful bursts from the mouth of creation.

[Anonymous No.12717714]

My tired wheel rollin
Eyes are red and lids are swollen
Whole life underneath tarpaulin
Jeans I've been in now for days
The pristine air turns into haze
But home is anywhere that pays
And I own that which I can raise
Or can be stolen

[Anonymous No.12717763]

The Milk of Paradise

Upon a cruel and howling morning of winter, our hero was violently accosted by a buoyant phantasm as he trod the shivering road to Helicon. The spectre barred the highway like some earthbound nebula, and bade our hero listen to the command which issued from some uncertain orifice:
-Drink the milk of Paradise!
-I shan’t
-You shall
And so he imbibed of the spectral vessel which manifested in the boreal air before his person. His faculties were at once seized by the assault of a hitherto unknown tang, which was stalked closely by a primordial zest. The heavenly sap surged like a ribald passion through his quaking body - he fell prostrate upon the highway to Helicon, much as Caesar had before his pagan idols in days of infinite yore. After several life ages of men he rose to his feet, and stood erect among the smoking wreckage of his nation.
-What has befallen me?
Eastwards he beheld the skeleton of the city which had begat him; its crumbling spires were now bedecked with banners bearing falsehoods and calumnies. He wept for the ruin of his city. Westwards he observed the valley which had sustained him; its meadows now teemed utterly with abominations. He wept also for that valley. To the south he dimly apprehended the home which had made him, its rustic chimney now reeked with evil vapours beneath a sunless sky. The depravity of that diabolical scene molested his soul with such stupefying vigour that he could not weep for grief. Such is the fate of those who imbibe the milk of Paradise.

>>12717714
Quaintly enjoyable

[Anonymous No.12717846]

>>12717714
I like that sort of stanza, with the last line half the size and rhyming with the first. What's that called?

[Anonymous No.12717851]

Excerpt of short story I wrote back in 2015, a dark fantasy thing.
https://pastebin.com/4h9Ssjax
>>12717179
Good laugh.
>>12717196
Don't know enough about military stuff, but sentence structure was odd at times imo. First sentence "my job well over" bit of I didn't get, the lamp part might flow better in it's own sentence to give a greater feeling of pause from being pushed back.
>>12717714
Nice. I saw a "mobile car wash" earlier. It had a number on it, I wonder if he actually gets and responds to calls.
>>12717763
Kind of reminded me of this - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vxR-oKkwJLI
Pretty cool, might flow better by cutting down sentences a little, but there's a style to it I liked.

[Anonymous No.12718198]

Can someone help me identify why everything I write turns out to be empty? I write nearly every day. I think I've come to the conclusion that I completely lack talent. I can't keep hitting brick walls with so little pay off.

---

Lisa laid across her mother’s lap and ran her palms against the grain of her leg hairs. She watched the boys on the paddock run at each other in bright colours as the thud of their boots drew nearer along the ground. Her brother took the tackle bravely on the sideline and the family cheered for him from their picnic mat spread out on the lower end of the grassy hill beneath the curtain figs. He pretended not to hear them and put on a face that said he was too caught up in the action of the game. He trailed after the ruck while gangly, boyish arms dragged at the jerseys of the bigger boys who were always meant to do well in contact sports. The young referee followed the play in a bright pink shirt and blew his whistle sharply to signal a penalty. The boys lined up at his position and packed the scrum, patting each other on the backs like the players on television.

The fold-out tents of local sponsors paraded the sidelines of the South’s Rugby Club. Plump volunteers wore purple polo t-shirts and manned the water dispensers and club equipment behind tattered old clipboards. Lisa wanted to go and play by the trees at the back fence where last time she had found a group of girls who let her play red rover with them, but her mother insisted she stay for the first half of the game at least because her brother had been playing so well and it was important they all get a chance to watch him. Her younger sister Jane was curled up contently beneath their mother’s arm watching the game through glazed over eyes, falling asleep already.

At half-time her mother sent her to out to the car to bring back her wallet so they could all get lunch from the canteen. The adult world around her operated on tall hairy legs at a frequency she was in tune with, and she followed her own feet across the grass by way of the painted sidelines and thin dirt trails that lead from the dressing rooms and storage sheds. By the front gates, Goldsmith Drive led both ways left and right as it always had, but felt somehow inaccessible without her mother and father: the world outside would not be the same if she made her own way on foot. The car had been left in the sun for hours and the heat trapped inside billowed out of it against her skin when she opened the passenger side door. She climbed inside and submerged her skin in the thick hot air and closed the door behind her. She watched the carnival progress quietly through the windshield. No one knew she was watching. It all went on without her. She realised for the first time that she could only ever be sure of herself. She pulled a funny face in the rear-view mirror. No one would ever know she did that. Did everyone do that type of thing when they were alone? She wished she was not so strange.

[Anonymous No.12718206]

>>12716962
Holy cookie!

[Anonymous No.12718208]

>>12718198
I can’t tell from your writing, but maybe try writing about what you sincerely think is important to you. Have you ever had a significant experience in your life, traumatic, beautiful, triumphant or otherwise? If you’re just writing about random bullshit that deep down you don’t give a shit about, then your writing will be hollow.

[Anonymous No.12718513]

Fog-lights roared to life in a blinding haze above him. In his Lysergic acid diethylamide induced state, he unwittingly mistook them briefly for a UFO, and cowered in fear as if discovering fire for the first time.
The pain in his back left molar speared his attention, leaving him briefly considering his death by a wisdom tooth he had refused to get taken out the past two years out of pure pigheadedness.
“The Green Lantern,” or so called by his co-workers for living in a townhouse affixes with that very name. That, & his penchant for nipping all the bud he could, which he smoked, consumed, vaporized, & combined with nearly every activity.
The only clear time it had gotten him in trouble was when he slept, & subsequently became attached, to his superior officer & elder by a decade, Nina. A feat he achieved most likely only because of her shared penchant for good fucking weed.
After she inevitably became bored of his youthful outlook on things, it led to things becoming awkward at the home office when orders were to be issued. Too many questions start getting asked and so Jim Wilson was assigned to the psychedelic research department. It was a natural career move for him, & helped quiet the whispers from his co-workers, just not the ones he thought were, most likely, just in his head.
>>12717763
A bit melodramatic for my taste, but still good. I like the overall vibe but I personally would prefer a slightly more humorous tone accompanying the style.

[Anonymous No.12718727]

bump

[Anonymous No.12719110]

I tried writing a poem, but it's in Spanish. If any speaker of the language could give me some input I'd appreciate it:

Maldito sea el deseo
de variar el tintero;
la abyecta negrura
no recede ante la pluma.

Diez, cien, mil los trazos,
negro el papel, negras las manos.

"Somos tus terrores
y no mermamos;
de tu desidia los amos,
del silencio los clamores."

"No verás el fondo de cobre
de negro moteado;
no morirás pobre,
tendrás tinta para años."

>>12718513
It is kind of hard for me to get a good feel on this text. I believe you are trying to be humorous and tongue-in-cheek, but I'm not fully buying it. Perhaps I'd need more time to acclimate to the style, but aside from setting up the attitude that one is to expect from the rest of the novel, it doesn't really do much for me. While I am certain that I would need more time and text to see the complete picture here, I believe I can ascertain whether or not I find something funny from the get go, and while there's certainly an attempt at humor here, it feels kind of phony, like what an insecure person would say trying to make people laugh, rather than it coming off naturally. It feels like the narrator is on the defensive the entire time; there's no sincerity in the way he communicates.
It might just not be my cup of tea in terms of humor.
Also, the way you jump from the first paragraph to the second one is kind of sloppy; there's no real connector that links talking about his wisdom tooth to his house. That might have been your intention, but then you do follow that up with a string of phrases and exposition that fit together pretty well and fluently, so I can't blame this on style; this seems like improper execution.
I think you might have something good in your hands for a certain public I don't belong to, but even then, you should still try to revise your comedic timing; "shared penchant for good fucking weed" should be funnier than it is, and I believe it's mostly down to execution.

[Anonymous No.12719408]

>>12719110
The ending succesfully delivers a haunting feeling. It's nice and simple, maybe I would have used something other than "variar" in the second line, reading "variar el tintero" on the first way through feels a bit jarring without the later contextual clues to make sense of it.
Apreciaria cualquier critica que puedas darme, todavia estoy trabajando en el.

Un vicio el despertar, y un beso al abandonar,
la farsa de alguna vez haber estado despierto,
pues si, lo que nos depara la inercia,
al final de esta danza, este movimiento,
permanece enteramente incierto,

Cual cantera de marmol, cal y roca
una avalancha de emociones,
se precipita
desde el seno de tu boca,
Palabras severas cual trueno,
evocan tu imagen al instante,
Un eco es tu recuerdo,
Pues la impresion ya es distante,

Vestigio de una forma terrenal,
sombra de tu sombra,
y ultima de las armas de su arsenal
Cada aniversario
Tiempo, cuel adversario,
me aleja un paso de tu memoria,
Cada aniversario,
Tiempo, artifice de mi victoria,
me acerca un paso a ti.

[Anonymous No.12719412]

Very early days with this - just testing myself. Thoughts?

[Anonymous No.12719430]

>>12717179
kek, doggerel is incredibly underrated, more enjoyable that the entirety of the last writing critique thread combined, a proper shitpost one may say.

[Anonymous No.12719445]

>>12717179
shit ;^)

[Anonymous No.12719690]

>>12719408
Man, what a dumb mistake; I fucked up the transcription; "variar", in the handwritten copy I first drafted, was "vaciar". I hope it makes more sense that way.
As for criticizing your work, I'm not exactly well versed in poetry, but I'll try to be as frank as possible, just don't take me too seriously.
I'll start with the more technical aspects that jump out at me and then give you my general thoughts.
I believe you shouldn't have put in that comma between "abandonar" and "la farsa"; it doesn't fit there; don't be afraid of letting the reader figure out the cadence of the poem on their own; putting commas where they don't belong as a way to mark the poem's rhythm is a common mistake. In general, I think you overuse commas; they force a longer pause than it would be required and break the pace; jumping from verse to verse usually entails a small pause so don't feel the need to overcompensate with artificial stops. This shouldn't be interpreted as you misusing them altogether; "al final de esta danza, este movimiento, permanece eteramente incierto", is a fantastic use of the comma to really nail home the sensation I imagine you intended to evoke. However, "pues si, lo que nos depara la inercia," would work better without the two commas you put there.
"Ultima" needs to be "última"; "ultima" is a verb. Also, be careful about typos, such as "cuel"; that's a minor thing but it merited mentioning.
I had to read it a couple of times to get a general idea of the themes involved, and that speaks of the poem's virtues; I love having to read a composition more than once in order to fully understand it, or at least, have the impression of doing so.
Your usage of language is strong and very evocative; there's a sense of real gravity to what you express. I also enjoy the initial obtuseness; it carries an oneiric quality that I found rather fascinating.

The impression that I get from this work is that you have talent, but need to sharpen your skills, either through reading or more practice. This poem has a lot of promise and I believe that with a little more time and revisions could be wonderful; I really enjoyed it, as rough as it is now.
Also, it just my be yesterday's anime hangover, but I swear that the first thing that came to mind upon reading this was Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop.
Keep up the good work, anon!

[Anonymous No.12719786]

>>12719412
Really nice

[Anonymous No.12719867]

>>12719690
you are on point on your critique, thx for taking your time and being as precise as you were.
Although I didn't had spike in mind when I wrote it the parallels are not inaccurate, since my idea was to make it about a man hallucinating and falling in love with the statue of his dead lover as he's waiting to die to be reunited with her.

[Anonymous No.12719987]

>>12719867
>my idea was to make it about a man hallucinating and falling in love with the statue of his dead lover as he's waiting to die to be reunited with her.
I love these sorts of premises for poems. Usually they are too complex and the poem too vague to get them across, and thus, the reader must reach their own conclusion, erroneous as it might be, but which in the end is a lot more personal. I prefer not to know what the author intended for this reason, but here the idea is romantic enough for me to get behind it. I am definitely on the side of romanticism when it comes to poetry, and if I were to point point your composition, it'd go between late romanticism and early modernism, but that's just my impression.

[Anonymous No.12720963]

Stray dog's howls still wake me up at 3:30 in the morning, never a single minute off. There has been days since I sold my watch, I've been out of money for a few days now. I don't know what else to sell. I believe that dog is my only friend left, I could adopt him, yet it doesn't deserve to live in more poverty than he already is living on.
My room looks hapier, it has to feel I'm dying. Maybe its just happy for having more space to breath in. I'm a parasite to it. My left wrist still hurts, I belive its tendons are inflamed. I have no money for medicine, snow will have to suffice for now.
____

[Anonymous No.12721042]

Posted an excerpt of this earlier but its scarcely recognisable now so posting again.

>>12719412
Not a huge fan. Not poorly written by an stretch but utterly lacking in vision. It reads like something you might pick up in a hospital waiting room.

[Anonymous No.12721129]

>>12721042
Interesting, by vision do you just mean that there is no ‘hook’ to get you interested? I’m still toying with the plot myself so perhaps that comes through more than I thought.

I like yours, but the constant insertion of multi-syllable adjectives (which might be an artistic decision on your part) begins to grow tired after the first paragraph. The movement through the text is constantly halted by superfluous descriptions like ‘shivering road’ and ‘boreal air’, and I think that trying to remove some of that may help.

[Anonymous No.12721229]

>>12721129
Just feel its a bit uninspired. Don't really seem to have a writing gimmick of your own.

>constant insertion of multi-syllable adjectives
I understand this complaint but its kind of what I'm going for here with the archaic prose style and intense, unabating imagery.

[Anonymous No.12721257]

>>12721042
This is satire, yes?

[Anonymous No.12721265]

>>12717763
me me imbibe the milk of panadise, me deep and miltony pooet

[Anonymous No.12721341]

>>12719412
Good writing. Good writing. But very little soul.

[Anonymous No.12721444]

>>12721341
How do I give my writing soul :(

[Anonymous No.12721478]

>>12721229
Not him, but I think there are ways to work the archaic elements into the text that’s more subtle and less like a sledge-hammer pounding your head with every line.

[Anonymous No.12721519]

Had carpal tunnel the last few months and its finally healed to a point they say I can write again. Trying to write short shit just to get back into handwriting and keep myself from relapsing or some shit.

Anyway, let me know what you think of this. Hand was already hurting a little by first reference change so I knew I couldn't go as depth as I wanted.

>>12718198
I actually quite enjoyed that. The only issue that jumped out at me was how you seemed to pull away from a topic as soon as I was involved. Not bad to do, but was a bit jarring how often it happened just in this snippet. I expected to hear more about lisa but then it was 2 paragraphs with only 1 mention of her.

I also can't quite tell if this is 3rd person limited or omniscient. Lisa is obviously young and confused with her surroundings, so why is she saying "the young referee"?

Either way, I can't quite tell how young she is, but she doesn't seem like she could be older than 8 at the most. If its 3rd person limited you should pull back on specifics and give it a less knowledgeable feel in order to relate the writing to the MC.

[Anonymous No.12721526]

>>12721519
forgot the picture

[Anonymous No.12721662]

>>12721526
ESL?

[Anonymous No.12721693]

>>12721662
No I'm just dumb as fuck and misspelled a bunch of shit converting it from print to type.

[Anonymous No.12721749]

>>12721693
Ah fair enough, I think the bit with the lighter confused me a bit, not entirely sure what you’re saying there

[Anonymous No.12721773]

>>12721129
>>12721478
I think I actually agree with you lads. I've been high on speed for the past 24 hours (including the duration of writing this piece) which may explain my wanton adjective abuse. Now that I'm coming down its looks utterly ridiculous.

Hopefully this is better

[Anonymous No.12721869]

What is the vision? The vision is fundamentally a self-realising ideal. But not some base pretension - it is the formless ideal which rests at the foundation of the shapeless edifice, the chiefest and greatest object of our mortal deliberations. It circumscribes space like some ancient serpent which writhes across the vastness of the universe. It is an invader which plunders the Kingdom of Heaven of its foul and reeking aspirations. It is the musclebound corpse of God Almighty, struck fast to the bow of a vessel which stalks its own reflection across a painted sea. It is a noxious vapour which fills the lungs of eternity and expels itself in frightful bursts from the mouth of creation.

[Anonymous No.12721995]

>>12721773
Instantly much better

[Anonymous No.12722062]

>>12721773
This work is brimming with personality and clear with intent, very nice.

I created a prologue to my dark fantasy story, but I feel like something's missing, like I'm not conveying enough information.
>>12721863
>>12721874
>>12721889

[Anonymous No.12722076]

>>12722062
During a prologue you can convey multiple things, but the most important one, I believe, is the tone. Here is when you establish what kind of narration the reader ought to expect; grandiose, action heavy, atmospheric, etc. The story is bound to change, as are the characters and even the setting, but the tone of your work is a constant throughout it.

[Anonymous No.12722117]

Everything in this thread is fucking shit

[Anonymous No.12722995]

>>12716962
this
>>12717114
Also, great syntax/vocab and whatnot, but honestly I wish we would all stop writing about "infinity" and trying wrap up the whole of existence into words all the time. I think some venture into the specific and intimate will bring you to a generality like it seems you want to express here. (take this as you will, I think I might be wrong, but this is how I see things at this current moment).

[Anonymous No.12723014]

>>12718198
Like the other anon said, write about your most vivid and important memories. It's an easy way to practice imagery and sentence structure, and you are basically just making a journal entry. I don't know how much you read, but reading more might help. If you read high quality prose and story all the time you should eventually absorb and mimic those styles. If you have a varied enough literary catalogue in your memory, each influence should begin to synthesize into a unique voice as you continue writing.

[Anonymous No.12723100]

>>12717851

( >>12717196 here)
Thanks for your comments friend, I will take it into advisement.

Your piece is worded simply but does a lot with it. The descriptions were fairly illustrative and it set the tone for me well.

Better piece than mine, sadly.

[Anonymous No.12723250]

>>12722076
Do you think I left out some crucial information like description of the environment or characters, or if my method of writing was too direct?

[Anonymous No.12723779]

>>12722117
Post work

[Anonymous No.12724421]

Just plucked this from something I've been working on in my spare time. Feel free to rip it apart if it's bad, I can't really tell at this point.

[Anonymous No.12724871]

>>12716433
Hell is not forever. Jesus saves all mankind. Free will is a lie, some are destined to go to hell other are destined to go to heaven. There is no afterlife. The trinity is a lie. Those that go to hell will eventually get out and go to heaven.
Martinzender.com
Bible-truths.com
Godsplanforall.com

[Anonymous No.12726116]

>>12724421
I liked it, would've kept reading. Something about the display of grotesque violence in a peaceful part of the west feels an overplayed theme though.

[Anonymous No.12726486]

>>12726116
Thank you, I’m glad you liked reading it. Could you explain your point about violence a bit more? Do you mean all art in general or just literature? Could you give me some examples to check out?

[Anonymous No.12726588]

>>12724871
I like it
>>12716433
My canoe gets trapped
and my team paddles on
the rivers voracious cries pushes the further
who am; we t oclaim
the dark waters never dampen in haste
pushing,groaning all that is considered
the loud river snatches dragging my voice

The team far gone
infinite depth beneath
me
infinite clouds above me
the red river birds, muffled morning chirps

[Anonymous No.12726597]

>>12726588
them*
we to claim*

I forget to check for spelling. My mistake

[Anonymous No.12726625]

>>12724871
No.

[Anonymous No.12727224]

A hollow drop, starlight tears,
Trickles down your cheek not pale.
Must my feelings delve from fears
And deep in logic rest – a notion
That there is no reason to the looks
You give, and I colour, signed with devotion.
Is it known to you, fair amongst many,
The extent of my longing? A sickened man
You make my being, if only but manly,
So I could express this flower’s beauty
With petals enshrouded, as-well its ears.
Beneath the flame of love, you my heart took.

[Anonymous No.12727228]

>>12726486
I meant a peaceful western town suddenly being presented with grotesque violence from a gang or a serial killer, etc. It's kindof become a trope in my eyes

[Anonymous No.12727472]

>>12727228
I understand what you mean. Unfortunately it’s kind of integral to the story but hopefully I can make it unique somehow so it doesn’t seem too repetitive.

[Anonymous No.12727478]

Many years ago I attended a lecture in the late summer at the University that lay on the opposite side of town. Although I had graduated there just the spring before, I couldn’t yet shake the irreplaceable security of student life. It had become evident by even then that I was destined to become a drifter and a left-behind; it was evident in the expressions people expressed and the phrasing of their phrases: they too must’ve seen in me the slow but sure burn of an uncomfortable existence. I reminded of this almost immediately.
“Oh! Why, well, hello. . Mr. Samuel,” which the first thing my former rhetoric professor Dr. Marlen said to me in the entrance to the campus lecture hall, “I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”
“Well!,” I responded, “Learning is a hard thing to lose,” which is really an awful thing to say. “And it was you yourself who informed me of tonight’s event.” Dr. Warlen on his part responded by just nodding his head and smiling, although it was difficult to tell if it was out of pity or that social illiteracy of which he was diseased. He looked away as though he were distracted by something urgent and left me to find my seat.
To my surprise, the room was already crowded with the exception of the front row, which as everyone knows is the worst row. But most striking of all wasn’t the room’s fullness but its silence, and my footsteps echoed like hollow punches against its wooded lanes. At the front of the stage and directly before me was our foreign lecturer. Behind him was a large projected image of a home, which was so far as I could tell the lecture’s subject.
He began the lecture with a long-winded tirade against his fellow psychologists regarding their apparent ignorance of the home and its secret thereof.
“You see,” he began, “when we are born in the world we are born not just anywhere—not in the bush or on the ground or on the street—but in the home. Before we have anything else we have the home and its vast array of objects and layouts which come to organize our thinking.” He motioned his hands like a conductor up to the projectionist atop the room’s balcony to show the next slide, which was a picture of a messy desk.
“What do we do at the desk? We sit, and we write, and we fall over ourselves in a fetal position. What do we do at the desk? There are papers and there are pens: there is a typewriter, an inherited typewriter no doubt, one that needs our constant—our constant—attention and maintenance. When we enter the study the first thing we look to is our typewriter: what piece of paper has been left in it? Does it require new ink?” And he looked at the front row, by which I mean myself, with a wild look, as though I somehow was holding back all answers.

[Anonymous No.12727481]

>>12727478
“No. Of course it does. The poor thing needs new ink which we have to venture out of the home to find. And then we think of the marketplace,” and motioned to the balcony man to change the slide to a picture of a store that had the word Store in large letters above its door.
It was precisely at this point I regretted ever even thinking about attending and not shooting myself, as I once knew a wonderful man to have done.
But here I was, stuck alone in the front row. I couldn’t leave. This wild man would give me some damnable look and god knows what he would do before all these people. I had no choice but to sit and wait and endure, endure his descriptions of chairs and their proper placements, the fabrics of couches and how to organize each room for maximal pleasure and maximal use. Worst of all, this was not the drone of an aged professor whose work can be mechanically and unconsciously recited. No, our lecturer’s voice somehow lacked rhythm altogether, with intonations, stress, and speed jabbing and contorting upon one another wildly, each in hopes of dominating those awful sounds that we, for whatever reason, are inclined to call language. These sounds appeared almost uncontrollable to even himself, as he would suddenly jerk his head forward and back, like he was caught off guard and smacked by an invisible foe.
Our foreign lecturer thus shuffled the stage, jerked about to and fro by his own unruly voice. He would be thrown to the tip of the stage and ride about its edges, wiggling forward and back as though he were on a tightrope. If he had enough of the frontline, by which, again, only included myself, he would be shot backward into the unlit portions of the stage. The poor projectionist, changing photos on demand, was also the University’s sole spotlight operator. However, the spotlight was installed opposite the projector, so he had to run back and forth across the balcony to move the spotlight before being motioned to change the slide. The otherwise silent lecture hall was filled with the percussive stomping and sprinting of the two fellows.
In the moments he was in the light, I was able to slowly build an image of our lecturer’s face which I have never forgotten. He was of normal stature but gaunt, with a head so sharp and defined it seemed artisanally carven. His lips were thin, indeed hardly noticeable from underneath his aquiline nose that glid into sharply protruding cheekbones, whose bony edges shot up towards his pointed, dogged ears. He held a constant grimace, as though sound itself amounted to a single shrill tone, and possessed a pair of perfectly sunken green eyes that pierced out from their city walls at their disaffected audience.

[Anonymous No.12727599]

>>12719412
Best in thread, agree with other anons that it needs more depth and soul to be truly good though. Writing is very impressive though.

[Anonymous No.12727608]

>>12727481
>>12727478
>>12727481
what i most liked about this was its air of UTTER COMPETENCE & would like to read more (preferably in manuscript form posted as an image or something) to get more of an idea about the hero. one criticism old boy: i find it's bad to start with 'many years ago'.

>>12724871
i think this is farther than you could have authority to go.

[Anonymous No.12727664]

>>12716433
I PAY HOMAGE TO THE WORLD TEACHERS
THOSE HOLY ONES, WHOSE HONOR IS CARVED INTO THE LAND, BLOOMING WITH EACH SPRING.
MAY THEIR WORDS NEVER FALL AWAY WITH FORGETFULNESS
INSPIRITED BY GOD, BLESSED BY LOVE
A RADIANT BEACON IN AN ERA
OF GREAT SUFFERING AND IGNORANCE
I PAY HOMAGE TO THE WORLD TEACHERS
AS I ENDEAVOR TO MASTER MY OWN SELF.
EMANUEL

[Anonymous No.12727698]

>>12727608
>one criticism old boy: i find it's bad to start with 'many years ago'.
Yeah I know, it's just a placeholder as I flesh it out in my head.

I'm shit at reading poetry, so anything I'd say wouldn't be worth much. I do wonder though if you could use "mattering" differently, maybe emphasize its verb-ness.

[Anonymous No.12727729]

>>12716433
Never written anything in my life but I have to start somewhere. Here goes.

Pronounced squarely in her doorway was a messy, blotted silhouette of a man. Mannerisms like his would immediately carry one’s senses to the conclusion that in front of you stood a staggering, and uneducated, grand ol’ buffoon. Every hair in his viciously unkept stubble was multidirectional and might’ve pointed to a treasure chest, and his invariable aura of liquor scents that followed scrunched the faces of the uninitiated. As his opposition, Mrs.Yuve’s gaze had a history of imbuing him with a fear that would throb throughout his psyche and soften his very bones. Veering to her desk he squeezed oafishly past the door’s frame, somehow smearing its highly professional and glossy finish. He hunkered his knees and chose to fixate his stare on a gilded portrait of what he knew to be her spouse. The sailor’s cap that the gentleman donned, and the greyscale look of the picture were his favorite features. Then, wrenching open his drawbridge of a mouth, he began about his apologies. Mrs.Yuve calmly observed the man and his sordid attempts to look away from her sets of eyes and folded fingers; But she could feel herself ferally lunging at his throat if he were to ramble on any further.
Fermenting and pooling in her throat, was a cloud of smoke that she blew as a stream into Xander’s sideward face. Alerted to the sound, he turned to meet the stream which powdered his face evenly and watered his eyes. Mrs.Yuve stood to parallel him as he was rubbing away at his lids with his handkerchief, “If you can’t so much as look at me, then you may listen instead, else You know what happens next. Expectedly now you’ll brandish me with your payments”. Xander with a forearm over his eyes now, nodded behavingly so, and surveyed his pockets for her answer.

[Anonymous No.12728109]

bump

[Anonymous No.12728262]

>>12727224
To get it out of the way: this poem is of course purely conventional, so its value is already limited. But anyways, I get the impression that you dreamt up the first two lines (whose rhythm is indeed impeccable) and then floundered around for something to continue them with. That's fine, and is a common ailment. The thing is, there are some serious infelicities of diction ("delve" from fears? and the fifth is devoid of both meter and pleasure), and even grammar (the last two sentences are almost nonsense), in what follows, and those won't do at all. Are you a native English speaker?

>>12717714
Why "that which" rather than just "what"? Disrupts the (otherwise convincing) rock-n-roll feel, don't you think?

Here mine:

This my heart, this my little cup of snow,
This inland sea—or puddle of great dunes—
I’ve had to spread it thinly, for you know
That it only reflects the shards of moons
That hang down from your haloed streetlight skull.
I mean that literally. This heart’s bled
Not where the stars to lovers’ panting toll
But in the house of phosphorescent LED.

I know a man of perfect voice and fingers.
He can elegize your slender metal frame
Into a bounded world of song that lingers
Round everywhere that people think of streetlights.
Now, I’m not him. But maybe in that world of art
I’d be my inner body, taking off my heart.

[Anonymous No.12728271]

>>12727729

The first word in your excerpt is misused. You can try to tell me it's a past participle meaning "remarkable" or the like, but you and I both know that's bullshit. Please, please, please, whatever you write, only use words that you feel wholly comfortable using. That is really the first step to writing, and it is easy to do. Your readers will thank you.

[Anonymous No.12728294]

how well did i rip off bret easton ellis lads

Near midnight we funnel out of the hotel’s revolving doors and pour onto a street whose name I’ve already forgotten, not really sure where we’re going and what we’re doing but confident that something justifying our outing will happen eventually. I originally planned on staying in my room, but when I realized that Alex and Morgan were both both going I decided it would be better to be wandering out in the cold than alone in our room. We walk east for a few blocks before someone asks where we’re going, and Michael, who is in the front, says he doesn’t know and thinks we should look for something cool like a restaurant or whatever. Most of the group is wrapped up in conversation, so nobody really hears him and we keep on walking as a kind of formless mass that only stops at intersections that we can’t cross. After another few more blocks and a seemingly random left turn Adriana says she’s hungry and a few others murmur in agreement, so Michael, kind of miffed, starts looking for places we can eat on his phone. I’m not really hungry, but I decide not to say anything because I can’t think of anywhere better to go and I’m afraid someone might disagree with me. I also notice I’ve drifted alone to a point in between two conversations, which feels awkward. I catch up Alex and Emily, who are talking about a TV show I have never heard of, and walk beside them like I am participating in the conversation. I contemplate asking a question about the show, which seems to be about bunch of high schoolers in LA, but I decide not to. While I am thinking about this we pass a woman with a guitar case who swerves to avoid us and gives a dirty look, probably because we are being loud and as a group taking up maybe three fourths of the sidewalk.

[Anonymous No.12728416]

>>12728262
I was stuck on that line for a bit, opted for "that which" because I thought it fit the five syllable stress pattern better but it's definitely the part I'm least sure about, feels a touch more grandiose than I would like. I toyed with "that that I can raise" as well which I like a lot rhythmically but looks clumsy when read.

Really like your post BTW the imagery is very rich especially the second stanza.

[Anonymous No.12728522]

Bump

[Anonymous No.12729154]

>>12727729
Good, your descriptions are very nice - particularly the ‘treasure chests’ line. Only thing I’d say is that on parts you set up a line to have a conclusion and then drop it halfway through, the best example being ‘somehow smearing it’s highly professional and glossy finish’. Smearing with what? The other comment I’d make is that occasionally you try too hard to drive a point home. There’s no need to say both ‘fermenting AND ‘pooling’, just one (I’d choose ‘pooling’, personally). Otherwise, enjoyable - what will the story be?
>>12728271
It’s entirely useable in this case you fool. Please explain how it would not be? Yes, it’s unconventional, but it’s not like he wrote ‘chickened in her doorway’, or some other nonsense.

[Anonymous No.12729158]

>>12728262
Bled and LED don’t rhyme

[Anonymous No.12729185]

>>12728262
I am a native speaker. But my school life wan't that good so I've had to mostly self educate myself in terms of grammar and poetry. I genuinely don't understand what is wrong with the last two lines.

[Anonymous No.12729202]

>>12729185
Try and explain what you meant in the last two lines

[Anonymous No.12729248]

>>12729202
She wears a hijab, and the burning passion I feel for her is where she has taken my heart.

[Anonymous No.12729254]

>>12729248
I arraigned the last line as "You my heart took" rather than "you took my heart" to make it unclear whether she'd taken my heart or my heart had taken her.

[Anonymous No.12729307]

>>12729154
Thanks for the advice, I assume I'll have greater knowledge of where to be limp or heavy handed with descriptions in due time. For the story? Starting yesterday, I made it out to myself that I'm going to write at least 300 words every day, practicing some aspect of my writing and making them as varied as possible, this is the first of them. I've been writing the definitions of many words down, so I write based off of whatever vocababulary I learned that day. If I were to expand on an idea and write a novel I should then have a great breadth of topics to work with.

[Anonymous No.12729384]

>>12729254
For one, you need a comma after the ‘you’

[Anonymous No.12729752]

>>12729307
Ah okay, so this is more just a test of your ability. That’s fair enough anon. If you’re looking for a really commanding use of vocab I’d recommend reading DFW’s essays, they really helped me with understanding when and how to employ certain words and techniques for maximum effect.

[Anonymous No.12729755]

I'm reading through my completed novel after taking a break between finishing it and now. Any tips or things I should look out for whilst doing so? I'm trying to create as few notes as possible now to best absorb the story as a whole and then after finishing I plan to go back and begin picking away at story

[Anonymous No.12729830]

"Well what did he look like?" Said the curious ebony detective crossing his arms."he had a Chinese looking face and some Chinese eyes and was about as tall a Chinese guy" said the truck driver" the victim victim while nodding in agreement."so did he have any unique features on him?" Said the second detective."oh yea he had this scar on his right eye and this meadillan around this neck. It looked a sun or sumthin and he was speaking in another language too"
"Did you understand what he saying"said the second detective while already guessing what the anwser is."no but I do know this he was speaking another language."

[Anonymous No.12729914]

>>12729830
Is this a joke

[Anonymous No.12729937]

>>12729755
Read excerpts backwards to pick up typos.

[Anonymous No.12730014]

>>12729158
Normally they do not, although they constitute a kind of distorted eye-rhyme. More importantly, “frame” and “streetlights” absolutely do not rhyme. Do you have an actual criticism or not?

>>12729248
Lol, cool. As regards the last sentence, I would strongly advise using such inversions in modern poetry, and in my opinion it does not actually have the effect of introducing ambiguity, only clumsiness. Now as regards the penultimate sentence, the main problem I guess is in how you’re using “if only but” and “so.” What logical connectives do those represent, exactly? By “if only but,” do you simply mean “though”? Then “as-well its ears” is just sort of this hanging qualifier that has not been integrated into the sentence. Part of what makes it unclear is the superfluous hyphen between “as” and “well.” It’s good work, Anon. You might consider learning a classical language to sharpen your understanding of grammar (although English grammar is by no means that if Latin).

[Anonymous No.12730028]

>>12730014
Strongly advise.AGAINST using**

[Anonymous No.12730044]

>>12729914
It's good dialogue,no?

[Anonymous No.12730751]

>>12729755
print it out and review it page by page with pen in hand
reading backwards, as another anon said, is also worth it.

take as much pleasure in removing phrases and sentences as you do adding

[Anonymous No.12730794]

>>12730044
If you're writing for 12 year olds, maybe.

[Anonymous No.12731299]

Bump

[Anonymous No.12731587]

>>12717763
Pretentious as fuck

[Anonymous No.12731600]

https://pastebin.com/dMjgCNDB

It's trans.

[Anonymous No.12732090]

>>12731600

[Anonymous No.12732962]

>>12731600
>>12732090

[Anonymous No.12733158]

>>12729830
Wtf is this? What's the context?

[Anonymous No.12733177]

>>12728294
It's ok. Kind of breezy.

[Anonymous No.12733269]

>>12733158
I don't know it just came to me when I was in the shower, I thought Turing it into a mystery novel parody. did it humor you at least?

[Anonymous No.12733287]

the red rose drowns in the violent orchids
what would it be 10 days from here
to be as it was
the future is a predictor of the present
I can't stand to think longer for the centuries to come
is it for us to make the short time shorter
is it worth it all
was it be as is
the nail file or the clipper
the day today or tomorrow

[Anonymous No.12733317]

>>12733287
modern day rupi karr but I can atleast tell you've read some romantic 17th poetry just of reading the flower imagery, if your a minority of any kind maybe youll get published

[Anonymous No.12733423]

>>12733269
Kind of.

[Anonymous No.12733997]

>>12732962
Bump

[Anonymous No.12734630]

>>12733287
I liked this but I'm confused by third last line on, was "was it be as is" a typo?
The fire is out but still smoke belches from within the hollow
And the heat that once would keep us warm will dissipate to naught
Where the light had shone we still can find our way, for now, although
The hearth that warmed us both in safety through the dark can not be brought
For in the night I looked upon you as you looked on me
And saw the smothering of time gone by as if I never knew you
In the road we still walked hand in hand but both our arms would stretch
And like a ghost among the trees my eyes could only now see through you

[Anonymous No.12734637]

The fire is out but still smoke belches from within the hollow
And the heat that once would keep us warm will dissipate to naught
Where the light had shone we still can find our way, for now, although
The hearth that warmed us both in safety through the dark can not be brought
For in the night I looked upon you as you looked on me
And saw the smothering of time gone by as if I never knew you
In the road we still walked hand in hand but both our arms would stretch
And like a ghost among the trees my eyes could only now see through you

[Anonymous No.12735209]

i miss you
like the dark
misses the sun.

waiting

i long for
just your touch
since you left.

[Anonymous No.12735274]

>>12731600
>>12733287
>>12734637
>>12735209
review other people’s work you fucking mongs

[Anonymous No.12735276]

>>12735209
also this is absolutely terrible, rupi kaur-tier shite

[Anonymous No.12735290]

>>12735274
i got distracted, my bad.

>>12734637
A good start, try tidying up grammar and punctuation a bit more.

[Anonymous No.12735427]

Booming hope and stars for eyes
Though only lies for whens, whys
These, medals of peace, blinding
Never failed to deliver, not binding

[Anonymous No.12735526]

>>12735427
Automatically bad because you didn’t review anyone’s work

[Anonymous No.12735537]

>>12735274
>>12735526
eat shit samefag

[Anonymous No.12735557]

>>12735537
Obviously I’m the same fucking person you dumb fuck, why should anyone bother critiquing your mediocre poetry when you can’t be bothered reviewing anyone else’s? Put some effort in you selfish faggot.

[Anonymous No.12735572]

>>12735557
imagine being so salty you spend your time playing bad cop on a /lit/ critique thread

[Anonymous No.12735625]

>>12735572
imagine being such a bitch that you expect people to just cater to your will at all times, these threads only work through collaboration and people like you ruin it by just demanding critique without giving anything back

[Anonymous No.12735653]

Hey, /lit/, quick question
How do you deal criticism of your Niche writing, not because of the quality, but because of the content? How do you deal with a lot of people calling you a
>Autist
>Faggot
>Tranny
>Woman
etc?
Even if some people really enjoy your work and want you to continue, but many others call it awful, cringy, and personally insult you for it? Do you just ignore them?

[Anonymous No.12735664]

I'm thinking about writing a short story

A girl asks her boyfriend to go to the store and buy some milk
He goes to the store, and gets hungry, so he buys fruit, bread, cheese, meat, vegetables, and a sandwich.
When he gets home, she asks him where the milk is
He forgot. He bought everything besides milk
He has to go back to the store

[Anonymous No.12736098]

Random excerpt from my manuscript. This is a flashback the main character has of living with his (now) dead wife.

I'm always interested in what people think.

[Anonymous No.12736419]

>>12735274
I did, just not in the same post.

[Anonymous No.12736428]

>>12735653
You bask in your superiority.

[Anonymous No.12736436]

>>12735653
by never sharing what i write

[Anonymous No.12736442]

>>12735274
terrible need to work on your poetry fucking cuck

[Anonymous No.12736448]

>>12736098
Really nice, if a little boring stylistically. It reads like how you'd expect a run-of-the-mill novel to read, and I think (despite your commanding use of language) that it lacks 'flavour'. You do seem to communicate well a loving relationship though, which is rare to see on this site. Well done, anon!

[Anonymous No.12736474]

What is another word for a "false aphorism", or an oft-said hollow saying? I know there's one like this but I forgot what it is.

[Anonymous No.12736532]

>>12736474
Glittering generality

[Anonymous No.12736537]

>>12736532
It's one single word.
I must have a fucking brain tumor or something, I know this word exists but I just can't remember it

[Anonymous No.12736545]

>>12736474
Platitude?

[Anonymous No.12736550]

>>12736545
Ah yes, that. Thank you

[Anonymous No.12736701]

>>12736448
Hey, thanks. I'm going back through it now to try and add the "flavour". My favourite writer is Murakami, so I try to keep my stuff simple like him, but "run-of-the-mill" is definitely not what I was going for. I'll keep this in mind during the edit.

[Anonymous No.12737079]

>>12736701
I can definitely see the Murakami influence, maybe just asserting yourself a little more in your work is the key?